Behind the Painted Smile
by extraordinerdy
Summary: "We found the body lying in an alley. He had three knife wounds in a line down his chest, and the white stripes on his sleeves had turned to red. It was terrifying, but even more terrifying was how the animatronics started to behave at night. Especially that puppet." The real story behind the killings at Freddy's, told from three different perspectives. Oneshot.


_Hello? Uh… hello, hello?_

_ Yeah, um, hi. My name's Alex. If you're listening to this message, and you're not the security guard, well, first, I'd like to congratulate you for managing to get in at night. The mascots usually… um… don't like finding anyone here after hours. Heh. Uh… secondly, why are you here? Just out of curiosity. You must have a pretty good reason to be here, of all places, right?_

_ We-well, as long as you're here, let me tell you something that will save your life. Really. It-it's that important. Um, are you listening? Yeah? I've got to say it real quiet so he doesn't hear me… okay? Don't ever go in the kitchen. I-I'm… I'm not even kidding. I'm not gonna try to sugarcoat it, I'm not gonna try not to scare you. Don't go in the kitchen. Once you're in there, you're his. And he will kill you in the most gruesome way you can imagine. And he'll find out you heard this message, and if I'm not dead by the end of the week, he'll track me down, too._

_ (bang bang bang)_

_ Erm, you know, I just realized something. I've got six hours to kill. It's only my second night, and I won't have to worry about much of anything until, y'know, tomorrow, so if you're still listening, let me tell you a bit about why this place is the way it is. Someone has to know, and uh, it might as well be you, right?_

_ Right?_

_ Okay… (deep breath)... here we go._

_ There used to be a place called Fredbear's Family Diner. Um, it was a pretty long time ago, and I was only, like, thirteen. My dad worked there. Everything was cool there, you know? The, uh, animatronic… there was only one… he kinda looked like Fazbear, with the top hat and the bow. Except his name was, well, Fredbear, and he was golden instead of brown. The kids loved him. So did the adults. Everyone, really. He tried his best to keep everyone happy, and business was great. Well, at least until the incident._

_ Some guy decided it would be a good idea to use one of the spare Fredbear suits in the back. We still have some of those. Can you believe it? (clears throat) Anyway, he put it on and pretended to be Fredbear. Fooled the kids. He even fooled me! They sounded exactly the same. After the hourly show, he visited one of the birthday parties. He distracted all the kids with some vanilla cake. Well, all except one kid. His name was Jonathan, and he had… problems. He was always angry, and he cried a lot... I mean, a lot. He was one of the guests at the party, and he was throwing a fit. And it wasn't like a two-year-old temper tantrum. He almost tore down the building, and the other kids were acting really weird, too. Almost like they were zombies. They took him outside and let him carry on until he was done disrupting the party, and thanks to Mr. Fredbear Suit, they didn't notice the guy's accomplice pulling up in his little purple car, knife in hand._

_ He killed him._

_ Nobody noticed until after the party._

_ We found the body lying in an alley. He had three knife wounds in a line down his chest, and the white stripes on his sleeves had turned to red. It was terrifying, but even more terrifying was how the animatronics started to behave at night. Especially that puppet._

_ Along with Fredbear, the other entertainer was a marionette we kept in the arcade. He used to be so friendly to the kids, giving them plushies in return for tickets. But after Jonathan died, he just wasn't the same. Behind that painted smile of his was pure hatred. Everyone thought he was possessed… you know, by the kid's ghost. The night-guards were dropping like flies until we figured out how to make him stop moving. For some reason, music-box music just made him freeze in his tracks. But what he did to Fredbear, the real Fredbear, was irreversible._

_ Possession. Manipulation. Basically, he wrapped his little strings around ol' Fred and turned him into his own personal puppet. He got the place shut down, and he went through two more locations before this one. We would have gotten rid of him by now, but the one time we tried, half the workers here disappeared. No mystery as to who was behind that one. We've tried remaking Fredbear, we've tried making four completely new animatronics, we've tried remaking those animatronics… nothing worked. Thank goodness Freddy's here to keep him in check. He's got some willpower. We gave him a music box and told him how to use it, and told him to try and hide the guards, pretend he killed 'em. He never wanted anyone to die, and you can imagine how he felt about all the kids that died here. Every single time the murders happened, it was a guard driven insane by the job, and every single time, that puppet reanimated the kids inside the animatronics. They must have, like, five kids each by now._

_What, you thought there were only two murders? Heh. No. Countless. It's just that only two of them stayed alive long enough to get caught by the police._

_After a while, Freddy noticed a pattern. The murders always happened on the guards' fourth or fifth days, so he started attacking them, too, but only on those days, or past them if they were still alive. He was really cautious, played his song whenever he was in the kitchen or at the door when the power went out. Even then, he gave them quick and painless deaths, which, I guess, is better than the alternatives. Kids dying or the guards getting caught and tortured to death by Jonathan or one of his pawns. But I still try to prevent it, because, you know, if death can be avoided altogether, that's obviously the best option._

_ (bang bang bang)_

_ Sorry, Foxy. You can't come in._

_ (bang bang bang)_

_ Nope. Sorry._

_ Uh, anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. The reason I told you not to go in the kitchen was 'cause that's where the marionette is now, locked up in a cupboard. And his powers… Jonathan's powers... are something else. You wouldn't want to be in the same room as him, if you know what I mean. Unless you have a death wish, which I wouldn't be too surprised if you did. After all, you're here. And it's night._

_ (bang bang bang)_

_ My God, Foxy. Just go back to your cove and stay there._

_ (bang bang bang)_

_ Gotta go._

_ (click)_

**-o-**

_Save them… help them… save him..._

_ I can't._

_ The nightmares are returning, more frequently than ever. All of them memories of times children have died when I wasn't there to stop it from happening. Even when I wake up, reality isn't much of a relief. I might not have been there when it happened, but I know why the Marionette is so angry. I wish I could calm him down, but he's beyond reach. The most I can do is play my music whenever he's around to stop him from getting inside my head, too._

_ He's taken Bonnie. He's taken Chica. He's taken Foxy. I know I'm next. Every time I pass through the kitchen, his sinister, distorted laugh, barely audible, echoes in my ears as if he were right next to me. He's playing with me, playing with the night-guards. Death is his game, the pizzeria is his playground, and we are his toys. I can't resist his control much longer, so before I'm gone for good, I'm leaving you this note._

_ To whoever finds this: I'm guessing you work here, since you're backstage. You need to quit now. Get the other employees to quit, too. There's no point in closing and reopening anymore. If Fazbear Entertainment stays in business, people will die. I can't stress that enough. People. Will. Die. You have to get them to close down, scrap the mascots. All of them. Including me. I don't care. Being dead is better than being a mindless killing machine. And if you can't do that, at least find some way to destroy that puppet before we're all dead. It's all his fucking fault, you know. If it weren't for him, the night-guards wouldn't have died, and we might never have closed down a single location. The four of us might not have been made, and poor Goldie would still be here. He didn't deserve what happened to him._

_ Also, if you're wondering what happened to the last guy, Alex, which you probably aren't, I had to kill him. He had been with us for so long that it was only a matter of time before he snapped and went psycho like all the other survivors. I'm not a monster, and neither are the others. The only monster is that kid. The first one to be killed. His murderers are long gone, but he still wants revenge. What more is there to be done? What possibly could he want? He's already destroyed Fazbear Entertainment and everyone associated with it. I know that sooner or later, he'll find this. Hopefully, all four of us will be dead by then._

_ If you are him, and you're still reading, I have a message for you, too._

_Death isn't the answer, Jonathan. That's all I can say._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Freddy Fazbear_

**-o-**

_**They think I'm just an ordinary killer, just an angry little baby out for vengeance.**_

_ Go ahead, Freddy. Play your little song. Don't let little Jonathan move, because if he does, blood will spill. And we can't have that._

_**Pathetic. They don't know me. They haven't the slightest fucking idea what I've been through. Those little assholes don't know the meaning of the word "pain", so I've taken the responsibility of teaching them. Really, they should be thanking me.**_

_ Play the song. Wind my music box. Don't let little Jonathan kill anyone. Killing is bad._

_**They don't know what it's like to have blood coming out of holes in your body, to feel completely and utterly abandoned when you are the most helpless you've ever been.**_

_Keep smiling. Give the children their toys. Wind up the box and keep the evil away._

_**They don't know what it's like to have everything taken away from you.**_

_Pop goes the weasel. Run, night-guard, run._

_**They're all idiots. Every single fucking one of them.**_

_Don't get angry, puppet. Nobody likes a grouch._

_**Little Jonathan is gone. I am no longer that helpless child.**_

_Stay put, puppet. Nobody needs to die._

_**Now I am not a ghost, not a marionette, not a toy or an animatronic.**_

_Shh. Don't wake the baby. Close the doors, his friends have come._

_**I am the one pulling the strings. Everyone here is my puppet, desperately struggling to free themselves from me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. This beautiful chaos is of my creation alone. They will know suffering.**_

_ The grandfather clock stopped short, and the night-guard died._

_**I feed on their fear, on their torture.**_

_It's only five nights, alright? You'll be fine. Just fine._

_**Their screams linger in the air even after their hearts finally stop beating. They will know helplessness.**_

_I never liked that puppet thing. It was always thinking, and it could go anywhere…_

_**Their blood has stained me to the point where there is no white left on my body. They will know anguish.**_

_Come with me, children. We can all be together._

_**I am death. I am pain. I am the fucking owner of this place, and they will know how I felt the day I was slaughtered.**_

_Give gifts. Give life._

_**I am the Puppeteer.**_


End file.
